Empty
by Kinky-bootz88
Summary: I had this on before and somehow I accidently deleted it. This is about what happens when Blair leaves Chuck


_A/N: Hope you all had a great Christmas. I didn't intend to write anything till January but I had to write something depressive so this came out. It is quite short because it's half one in the morning and I need sleep but I had to get this out. Most things I write are about Chuck leaving Blair, but I thought I would try something different. So this is about Blair leaving Chuck. Read and review. _

The vodka ripped down his throat. He stopped feeling the burn in his throat months ago. He stopped feeling anything months ago. He was pretty sure it was because of the drugs and vodka he took every day. He was sure that if stopped even for one day the pain would near enough kill him. The pain the first day nearly did. He would never admit this to anyone but he sat and cried that first day. The pain was that bad he cried.

The worst thing was that there was nothing physical that could be blamed for the pain. It was all emotional. He would never admit that to anyone. Chuck Bass does not cry, and he certainly doesn't cry over a girl. But she wasn't just a girl. She was a girl whom he loved, and a girl whom had left him. She was a girl whom he didn't know where he was and that occupied his mind on a daily basis.

She didn't leave a note, she didn't say goodbye and she never rang. If it wasn't for the fact she took all her clothes and said goodbye to Serena he would have had people looking for her. He would have sold the clothes off his back to pay for the investigators, hell he would have flown to every country, city, and town in the world if it took it. But it was clear to him that she was unhappy with him so he would leave to it. He would leave her wherever she was and just hope that she was happy.

People thought that Chuck Bass was heartless and they were right. He was heartless because his heat had been torn out and was now wherever she was. Now he seemed determined to kill his own liver. Serena told him he had to let it go, she said it clearly wasn't right when she left him and then rambled on about fate. He never had Serena down as someone to believe in fate. He knew he didn't believe in fate.

He didn't work anymore. He just sat and drunk. Lily paid for the best rehab, counsellors, therapeutic retreats she could find, but that did nothing for him except give his liver a break for a week or two. When Serena asked him if he intended to die he replied that he wasn't aware he was still living.

She chastised him for being like this. She had a go at him for staying in an empty hotel room wallowing. Her, Lily and Eric tried to convince him come home. The even stayed with him when they thought he was having a really bad day. It didn't matter to him if a thousand people stayed. The room was and always would be empty.

Her name wasn't mentioned, her pictures were hidden away, and songs she liked weren't played. If it wasn't the giant hole in his chest he would question she existed in the first place. All he had to remember her was the nothingness he felt and that was more than enough for him. The image of her walking out his door for the last time was burned into his mind forever.

When he closed his eyes he saw her, he heard her. If you told Chuck Bass a year ago he would have turned into this person he would have called you crazy. He would not be sitting wallowing over some girl but yet here he was. Sitting in a hotel room drinking vodka and wishing she would come back to him.

He thought many times about hiring somebody to go find her just to make sure she was ok but he knew if she was in any trouble she would have called Serena or Nate. She was simply living her life but a million miles away from him. He thought if he hired someone to find her and she didn't want to be found it would hurt the both of them. He would simply hurt to prevent her for hurting.

Serena and Nate kept trying to get him to come out and meet new girls. He went out whenever he needed some more vodka. Lily had food sent over every week but most of it was wasted. He ate what he needed to keep going but if he ate too much it took too long to numb the pain.

Chuck found himself standing at the window and wondered how he got there, then he realised he didn't care. He stared out over the Upper Eastside. The darkness alerted him that it was night time. He had lost all sense of time. He barely slept, he barely ate, he barely left the house, he just lived in the numbness.

People came in once a day. He didn't know who they were, he who know who they weren't and that's all he cared about. They weren't who he wanted or needed so he didn't care about them. It occurred to him one day that he should question how they were getting in but then he realised he still didn't care. He thought it was probably people that Lily had sent to make sure he wasn't dead. She didn't come to visit him anymore. She did at the start but he was sure she was scared of what she would find when she came to visit.

He watched the blur in the street below. He couldn't make sense of anything. He wasn't sure if it was the drugs or the heartbreak that was causing it but he just couldn't make sense of anything he was seeing. He knew it was a sign that he should stop the drugs but he didn't care enough. If she didn't care enough for him why should he.

Chuck walked back to the sofa and sat down on it. He poured himself another class of vodka and drunk it. He stared at the empty glass. It seemed like a metaphor for his life. Empty.

He did once have a goal. He was going to build a successful hotel chain, turn a profit by the time he was twenty-one. He was twenty now and turning a profit was the furthest thing from his mind. The only thing on his mind now was her. He wasn't going to go to a business meeting to discuss his hotel, he wasn't going to meet with the board of directors, and he wasn't going to do anything.

So for now, he would just sit and wait in his empty hotel room, with his empty glass and listen to the non-existent beats from his empty heart and wait. Hope that she would come back or ask him to come out to her. Until that day he would simply keep loving her and wait until she decided that she loved him too. If she did come back she would find him here. She would find him sitting on the sofa she sat with him to eat breakfast. In the same bed they shared countless times. She would probably find him stinking on whiskey and smoke. She would find him not reading the papers that were delivered every day.

She would find him exactly the same as he was when she left.

Empty.


End file.
